


Apologize

by tessykins



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Femslash, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-30
Updated: 2008-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 13:23:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tessykins/pseuds/tessykins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elle runs away from making a mistake and Claude returns to make up for one. Shameless fanwank. Set immediately after 3x07.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apologize

_Sylar_. How could Sylar be at Pinehearst? Her last hope, working with her greatest enemy.

Elle dashes tears from her eyes as she runs, electricity sparking on her wet fingertips. She trips against a parked car. She steels herself and sends a spark into the lock. The locks pops open, a small miracle, and she slides inside. She presses her palm against the dashboard and hopes. She laughs as the engine revs, literally hotwired.

She has Peter’s old address; she figures that’s where Claire will take them. At least it’s a safe place, for now. She doesn’t know when, or if, Pinehearst agents will be following her.

She tries to navigate through the tears. It’s not easy; she’s never been in the city, and she’s panicking. Her powers shorts out a few blocks from Peter’s apartment. She swears as the car’s engine stutters to a halt. Se screams and slams her hand on the wheel. The car starts to coruscate with electricity; Elle slams the door open and tumbles out.

She runs the rest of the way, face down to hide her tears.

Peter’s building isn’t impressive, she almost misses it.

In fact, she would have if an arm hadn’t reached out and grabbed her.

Elle struggles, kicking and punching and sparking in a panic; fighting against an invisible opponent whom is holding her tight.

“Elle!” A voice penetrates her daze, and Elle sags.

“Claude,” she sobs.

The air shimmers and the invisible man appears. He sighs and wraps his arms around her, pulling her into the shaded doorway.

“I couldn’t,” Elle sobs, sparks clinging to her. Something tears loose in her chest and the grief spills out. “I tried, but _he_ was there—and Daddy—I just—I couldn’t—“

“Shh,” Claude murmurs, stroking her hair, ignoring the static. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

Claude lets her cry for a moment before pushing her away. He grabs her chin, pulling her head up. “You ready to be a big girl now, Elle?” Elle nods, swallowing her tears and wiping the wetness from her face. “Good.” Claude looks up at the building. “Cause this is going to get messy.”

Claude picks the building’s locks while Elle watches in amusement. “Why are you here, Claude?”

“Well,” Claude cocks his head to the side, “Some say that God made the universe—“

Elle laughs, voice still thick with grief. “No, _here_ here.”

Claude looks up, eyes honest for once. “I followed you from London. You shouldn’t have left when you did. I was worried.”

Before she can think of anything to say to Claude’s surprising openness, Claude pops the lock and steps into the dark building. He takes the stairs two at a time, Elle scurrying to stay at his heels.

Standing outside Peter’s door, Claude is making an obvious effort to not turn invisible and Elle’s hands are tingling with static.

Elle reaches out and knocks, blue sparks shedding on blue paint.

Claire answers the door, wary and frowning. She frowns to see Elle, and her brow wrinkles in confusion at Claude.

Elle almost laughs; the cheerleader is cute when she's confused. "Claire, this is Claude. Claude, meet Claire."

There is movement in the living room and Peter emerges; Elle recognizes the stance and look of pain. “Claude?” Peter’s voice is cracked and wounded and incredulous.

Claude takes a deep breath and calms himself. Elle reaches out and takes his hand. Claude spares her a brief grin and steps forward.

“Peter,” the word a prayer on his lips.

Elle stares at Claude in amazement before another shock wracks her frame. Claire pulls her into her arms, supporting her into the apartment. She helps Elle collapse into a chair, new tears of pain welling in the older girl’s eyes.

Claire stares at her with unreadable eyes. “What happened? Why did you come back?”

Elle looks up, meets Claire’s gaze, knowing she’ll understand. “Sylar,” she snarls.

Claire gasps, anger filling her face. She grabs Elle’s hand, ignoring the electricity dancing over their skin. “What was he doing there? Was my dad there?” Elle shakes her head and Claire’s frown deepens.

Elle and Claire startle as a cry of rage rips the apartment’s quiet air. Peter and Claude’s previously quiet conversation has burst into heated and bloody violence. Peter punches Claude is the face, splitting his lip. Claude snarls and smacks Peter, hard. It’s obvious to Elle that Claude is coddling Peter, being careful not to hurt him worse.

“Do you know what I’ve been through since you left,” Peter cries, lip curling. “You left when I needed your help most. I almost destroyed New York! And—“ his eyes flick to Elle, then the floor. “—I got stupid. I did horrible things. Helped a monster.” His violence gentles into sullen hate. He looks up, captures Claude’s gaze. “I needed you to help me.” And it’s desperation.

Claude sighs, deflating, false bravado lost in the face of Peter’s pain. “I know, Pete. And I am sorry.” He reaches out and pulls Peter into a rough hug. Peter buries his face in Claude’s shoulder and heaves a shaking breath.

Peter lifts his head and takes Claude’s mouth in a searing kiss, angry and joyous both.

Claire gasps; Elle grins at her two boys. She’d known, from the first time Claude talked about Peter. But it’s the first time she’s really seen love, ever, in the flesh. Love in all its strange and varied forms.

Claude pulls back from Peter and chuckles. “Not in front of the kids, honey.”

Peter blushes and glances sheepishly at his guests. Claude laughs at Claire’s aghast face. Elle lets loose a giggle, the first time she’s laughed in weeks.

Claude takes Peter’s arm and guides him towards the bedroom. He smiles back over his shoulder, “Be good, girls.” Peter’s hand is entangled with his.

Elle look down at her own hands, Claire’s still clenched tightly around them. She turns her hands over, sliding her finger between Claire’s, drawing the other girl’s attention from her uncle and his lover.

There is a breathless moment as neither of them move, hands and gazes tangled.

Claire finally pulls her hands away, just noticing her scorched skin. She frowns, watching the skin heal as though Elle had never touched her.

Elle reaches out and takes one of Claire’s hands and raises it to her lips. She softly kisses the palm, eyes still on Claire’s. “Sorry,” she murmurs, and it’s for more than burns that fade.

Claire almost smiles and doesn’t pull her hand away.

And that’s enough. For now.


End file.
